Dylan, my five year old, has been bugging me for a week to wash her favorite baby doll, Babette.
Dylan has had Babette since birth and she is well-loved, soft and smells yummy. I can't put my finger on it, but it's a combination of Gain laundry detergent, candy, and that good, sweet, indescribable baby smell. She has a clump of yellow yarn bangs that Dylan will roll between her fingers when she is stressed or focused. Or she'll put the bangs right under her nose and breathe herself to sleep.
But when Babette loses her smell, she doesn't work the same magic.
Dylan kept asking "Please, Mom, can you push the button and make her clean?". I kept forgetting. But she did not.
I went down to do laundry today, opened the washing machine door, and surprise!, there she was in her faded pink, velvety glory ready for the wash cycle. Lying there, expecting me, with that "I am so loved" smile on her face. She was even sprayed with Shout to get those pesky stains out. I did not move her, I just laughed and got my camera. She's such a poser, that doll, having been photographed a lot over the years.
I learn so much from Dylan. She's a doer.
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